Three's a Crowd
by Tamoline
Summary: Caroline walks in on Elena and Katherine kissing. Wait, what? With a possibly surprising lack of smut.
1. What a complex web we weave

The late afternoon sunlight paints the world in glorious shades of amber and gold. It streams through the open front door, turning the otherwise ordinary hallway into something almost magical. Caroline smiles at the sight, pausing for an appreciative moment as she sets the shopping bags down. She can't help breathing a soft sigh as the door clicks shut, the stifling gloom of the house instantly rushing back to envelop her. All the curtains are closed, all the blinds drawn. No window or door is open even the smallest crack. The house is a fortress, huddled and close, the outside world kept firmly at bay. Caroline shivers. It s too suffocating, too much like a tomb. She may be a vampire now, but in her heart she'll always be a child of sunlight and summer and the open air. Yet she would never dream of complaining.

Anything for her dearest friend.

Her smile doesn't falter the tiniest amount. If anything, she broadens it even further.

"Elena," she trills, stepping around the corner into the living room. "I m-"

She freezes.

Shock fills her veins with ice water.

She just can t seem to process the sight in front of her.

Two figures, locked together, wrapped around each other.

Doubled image. Twisted mirror.

Two sets of hands, clutching, tangled.

Spray of dark hair, straight locks mingled with curls.

Red velvet on black denim, the contrast like a spill of blood in the night, sudden and shocking.

Blood... The tang of iron and copper, faint but unmistakably *there*.

(How could she not have smelled it before?)

Lips smeared, mouths hungry, tongues seeking...

Kissing.

Elena and Katherine are *kissing*

Ohmygod, that s *so* (hot) wrong, flits through her mind.

At first they seem oblivous to her entrance, lost in the moment (in each other), but then Elena (she knows it s her and not the other) opens her eyes and...

...is abruptly halfway across the room, an expression of utter shock on her face. One hand flies up to cover her bloodstained (freshly-kissed) mouth.

Oh my god! she almost yelps, looking far more discombobulated than Caroline has seen her in years. This isn t what it looks like.

Katherine just laughs. She sashays over to the sofa and settles onto it comfortably, seemingly perfectly at ease. Unlike Elena, she makes no attempt whatsoever to hide the evidence of her recent activities.

Careful, Elena, she drawls. She hasn t said what she thinks it looks like yet. Deliberately meeting Caroline s gaze, she draws a fingertip through the drying blood on her face, then delicately touches it to her tongue.

Ignoring the way her stomach lurches with (desire) blood lust, Caroline rolls her eyes at the display (because that s all it is; all it ever is with Katherine) and turns her attention to Elena.

It *looked* like the two of you were kissing.

Elena winces. Well... we were. But it wasn t... It was a lesson, that s all.

Caroline can t help the way her eyebrows shoot up, almost into her hairline. She plants her hands on her hips, resisting the urge to smooth her dress, to comb her fingers through her hair, to straighten her cardigan. She refuses to put her unease on display.

(It's nothing to do with the way Katherine is looking at her. And it's certainly nothing to do with the images that linger behind her eyes, persisting despite her best efforts to drive them away.)

A... lesson, she repeats. A frown creases her forehead. Force of habit makes her make a mental note to stop doing that, but if ever a frown was justified it's right now. (In any case, it's not like she's going to wrinkle, is it?) A lesson in what, exactly?

She doesn't miss the way Elena's glance flickers instinctively towards Katherine, looking for... what? Support? It doesn't come, of course. Katherine is having far too much *fun* with all of this.

(She always does, in everything she does. It's either one of her better qualities, or something that almost makes Caroline want to scream with annoyance.)

But the fact of Elena looking to their sometimes-enemy/occasional-ally/never-*friend* (and what is she even *doing* here anyway?) is like a dagger in her chest. After the initial sting of it, though, the barb eases gently into place. Just one more ache among too many to count.

And it isn't like she's surprised. Not really.

Okay. So. That's the way it is. She can feel the lines being drawn, redrawn, a new configuration emerging. But, paradoxically, with the acceptance comes a steely determination, the burning will to fight. No matter how hopeless the struggle, how long the odds, she's not just going to give up.

She doesn't give up on her friends.

Although it feels like an age has passed, in reality it's only been a few seconds. Elena is still struggling for words, though, so Caroline decides to give her a push. She takes a deliberate step towards her agitated friend, drawing her gaze.

"Well?" she asks, softening her voice. Not demanding, just asking a simple, straightforward question.

Something shifts in Elena's eyes, something unreadable.

"Just... give me a minute," she mutters. "I need to get cleaned up."

Pulling a handful of tissues from the box on the coffee table, she crosses to the kitchen sink to scrub at the mess around her mouth. With an almost visible effort, she schools her features into something resembling calm. As long as you ignore the faint writhing around her eyes. And turn a blind eye to the way she's in constant, restless motion, seemingly unable to hold herself still. It about breaks Caroline's heart to see how hard she's trying (how badly she's failing).

What s wrong with this picture?

Everything.

But the sheer un-Elena-ness of her hesitation is by far the worst part.

(Though sometimes it's been hard to recognise the girl she used to know. Ever since the turn.)

If you don t count Katherine being here, of course. She makes everything worse.

Clutching the soggy, bloodstained wad of tissues in one hand, Elena closes her eyes tightly for a moment, letting out a sigh that's almost a sob. Caroline is peripherally aware of Katherine shifting position slightly on the sofa, tilting her head to one side as she considers her double.

"You missed a spot," she observes, cheerfully. Her gaze flicks over to Caroline for the merest instant, the smile on her lips twisting into something wry and challenging before melting back into simple (like anything is *ever* simple with her) amusement. "Want me to help?"

"That's okay, I've got it." Caroline is in motion almost before the words are out of her mouth. A few quick steps take her to Elena's side where she hesitates, suddenly uncertain. "Is that alright, Elena?" she asks, deliberately making her tone soft and soothing. Elena nods once, jerkily. She keeps her eyes closed while Caroline gently scrubs at her face with damp kitchen roll, only opening them when she steps back and pronounces: "All done."

"Thank you." Elena's voice is low and hoarse. She makes a face at the soiled tissues that she's still holding, throwing them in the bin (with perhaps a little more force than is strictly necessary) and washing her hands in the sink.

"You're welcome."

Elena returns Caroline's smile faintly, briefly, before her face falls into serious lines once again.

"Control," she bursts out, suddenly.

Caroline blinks. "Excuse me?"

A twitchy, jittery shrug. "It was about control. The kissing, I mean."

"Oookay..."

Although she's decided to try ignoring the elephant in the room for the time being, Caroline can't help the way her gaze drifts to Katherine, trying to gauge her reaction.

Katherine laughs. "If you could only see the expression on your face right now, Caroline," she murmurs. "You look so *adorably* confused."

Caroline narrows her eyes. "I don't remember asking for comments from the peanut gallery." There's an edge to her voice despite her firm resolve not to let herself be rattled. But then, Katherine always does seem to know exactly how to get under her skin. "And aren't *you* going to clean yourself up?"

With a liquid shrug of her shoulders, Katherine unfolds herself from the sofa and stoops to snag a partially-full glass from the coffee table. "No, I'm good." She looks up, her eyes sparkling as they meet Caroline's. "Why, does it bother you?"

Caroline rolls her eyes. "I just thought you might want *not* to look like you should be on one of those Discovery Channel documentaries, that's all."

But that isn't a 'no'.

(And even if it was, it wouldn't be true. Not entirely. Crimson has *always* been one of Katherine s colours.)

Smirking like she's scored a point, Katherine tops up her glass from the blood bag propped to one side and gracefully resettles herself amongst the cushions. Naturally, she doesn't spill a single drop. Half-closing her eyes, she inhales deeply of the rich aroma, her soft sigh drowned out by Elena's sudden, sharp gasp.

Concerned, Caroline half-turns to see Elena's eyes have become two shadowed pits in a nest of writhing worms. She's gripping the countertop almost hard enough to crack it, her whole body trembling as if it's at war with itself.

"Elena. Elena look at me." Caroline instinctively reaches out, but checks the motion halfway through. She wants nothing more than to offer a hug, or even just a comforting touch, but she knows from past, painful experience that it won't help. Elena can't bear to be touched when she's like this; can barely even stand to be seen. So Caroline soothes with her voice instead. "Just breathe. In and out, just like we practiced. Okay?"

"That's... the... problem!" The words are razor blades and broken glass, Elena's voice a harsh, rasping growl. "Every time I breathe in I can *smell* it."

"Then focus on something else," Caroline urges, at the same time as Katherine says:

"Why don't you just have some, then? It's right here." Swirling the sluggish liquid, she raises the glass in a mocking toast (to Caroline? to Elena? to no one in particular?) and takes a small sip. The delicacy of the action is at odds with the blood painting her face, like a fur-clad barbarian using a knife and fork or a linebacker doing needlepoint. "Mmmm," she almost moans.

"Not *helping*, Katherine!" And if Caroline's own voice is edging close to a snarl, then that's surely because she's so (hungry) angry right now she could just *scream*.

But Elena's the one who's screaming. Wailing, really; a distressed, desperate keening that goes on and on and on. Caroline's (beloved) best friend is in pain, and it's all *her* fault. The interloper. The mischief-maker. She'll pay for this, and pay dearly, but not right now. Not when Elena needs help.

"Make it stop," Elena whimpers. "I c- can't *stand* this. Just, please make it *stop*."

"It's okay, Elena. You're going to be okay. You can do this."

"I don't kn- know if-"

"You *can*. I have faith in you." Ignoring the snort from the sofa, Caroline moves around until she's in the centre of Elena's field of vision. She places her hands on the countertop, near but not touching. "Now, look at me." Slowly, painfully, Elena lifts her head up. "Good." Caroline lets her smile turn mischievous, lets her eyes sparkle just a little. Shared humour, nothing that can be seen as mocking. (Elena can get awfully touchy these days.) "Uh oh. Looks like someone's going to have to re-apply her eyeliner when she's done vamping out."

There's a split second when things could go either way, but then Elena laughs. It's ragged around the edges and fades into a whimper, but Caroline's heart lifts at the sound of it. Despite appearances, maybe this isn't going to be one of the bad days after all.

"You're going t- to have to g- give me some tips." Her mouth twists again, breath hissing hard through her teeth. She looks away, then back again, the strain clear in every taut, trembling line and curve of her body. "I'm so *thirsty*, Caroline."

"Didn't you just have something to drink?" She doesn't mean it as a reproach, but she sees the spark of anger flare in Elena's haggard, haunted gaze. Caroline tilts her head just a little, eyebrows raised in a silent 'really?' and the flame gutters out again just as quickly. Elena shrugs, her sheepish expression saying more than a thousand apologies. Not that Caroline wants her to apologise: she just wants her to fight past her hunger-driven instincts, to learn to hang onto reason. It seems to be working. At least, she amends, it *seemed* to be working until today. Until Katherine's visit.

"I did," says Elena, answering the surface question, "but it doesn't help. It's not..." She releases her death grip on the counter top, waving one hand vaguely as language fails her.

"It's not enough for her." The same voice, but oh so different in tone. Not that Caroline would never admit to any comparison between them in which Elena comes out the lesser, but... (It's the difference between a diamond just after its first rough-cutting, and once it's been shaped and polished and set. The same base material, but only one has been honed to perfection.) "She's too much a predator to be easily satisfied with carrion."

And that almost sounds like... admiration. And almost like something else, too. Almost like... concern?

(But when is Katherine ever concerned about anything or anyone but herself?)

Either way, Elena visibly flinches at the words.

"Stay out of this, Katherine." Caroline's voice may be soft, but the warning is plain to hear. "You're a bad influence. I don't know what you're even doing here in the first place."

Katherine starts to say something, but Elena, of all people, overrides her. "Actually, I invited her," she says, her voice suddenly steady again and so much more like herself.

(It shouldn't hurt. Not when Caroline already knows how this goes. How it always goes. But it does anyway.)

Guilt is written across Elena's face, plain for anyone to see. On the plus side, she looks like she's regained control of herself. With an inward shrug, Caroline decides to be thankful for that, at least.

"Okay, then." Patting Elena's hand reassuringly (it's safe to touch now, and part of her softens at the relief in Elena's eyes when she does so), she pushes off the counter and steps back "Why don't we sit down, and you tell me all about it?"

There's the slightest hesitation, and then: "Okay."

Caroline intends to sit in one of the armchairs, but then Katherine *looks* at her. Maybe it's that insufferable, knowing smirk on her lips, or maybe it's the way that the devil herself seems to dance behind her eyes, but before she's consciously changed her mind, Caroline's steps have taken her to the sofa.

"Budge up a bit," she says, sitting down before Katherine can finish whatever it is she's starting to say. (Interrupted twice in a row, one part of her - a smug, *smirking* part of her - crows. That's got to smart.) Much to her surprise, Katherine actually does move over a little, making room for her to perch neatly on the cushions. From the look on her face, *Katherine* is somewhat surprised as well. Or maybe she's just amused. Either way, Caroline's counting it as a point to herself. "Thank you."

Elena looks from one of them to the other, her brow furrowed. For a moment, it seems like she's going to say something, but then she obviously thinks better of it. Taking a clean glass from the drainer (holding it with exaggerated care, as if she's afraid she might crack it), she crosses to the table and picks up the blood bag with a hand that only shakes a little.

"Would you like something to drink?" she asks.

"Yes, please." It's hard not to leap up and offer her help, to make it easier on Elena, but Caroline makes herself stay right where she is. 'She has to learn control,' she tells herself, all the while feeling like a terrible, awful friend. 'It's for the best.' Elena pours slowly, chewing on her lower lip almost to the point of drawing her own (stolen) blood. Her breathing is ragged by the time she's done, but she hands the glass to Caroline with a triumphant smile.

"Thank you," says Caroline, meaning: 'Well done.'

"You re welcome," replies Elena. There's a single glass remaining on the table, empty but for the merest scarlet tinge. It's clearly her own. She refills it - just as torturous a process as filling Caroline's glass - and takes it with her to one of the armchairs, where she curls up with her legs tucked beneath her. Only when she s properly settled in does she allow herself to drink. And even then, she sips slowly. Maybe not patiently, but at least she s not giving in to her obvious desire to drain it in one gulp. That s definitely progress!

Caroline s so proud of her right now that her heart feels fit to burst.

Setting the glass aside, Elena takes a couple of deep breaths and smiles wryly across at Caroline.

I m just going to begin at the beginning.

That s generally how it s done, Caroline observes lightly.

How perfectly conventional, Katherine drawls. That earns her a sharp look from Elena, in response to which she gives a lopsided smile and makes a get on with it gesture. After bestowing another frown, Elena turns back to Caroline.

You know I ve been having trouble... adjusting.

It s not a question, but Caroline nods anyway. She doesn t point out how much of an understatement that is. Elena s transition has been difficult, far more than Caroline s was. Not that Caroline s was easy, but this is definitely worse. Elena s thirst grips her tighter, and is harder to slake. Even with a daylight ring, the sun sears her eyes. She s hyper-sensitive to pretty much anything and everything: smells, sounds, touch... Everything. And then there s the emotional rollercoaster. The only consolation is the fact that she hasn t actually killed anyone.

(But even though she prefers to dwell on the positive, Caroline doesn t like to linger on that particular thought. After all, that s an innocence she can t claim anymore. And all the guilt in the world won t change that.)

Well, Katherine turned up out of the blue one day. Elena grimaces. And it was a Bad Day. The capital letters are audible.

Caroline wants to let Elena continue uninterrupted. She wants to rush over to her and give her a hug. But what she actually does is turn to Katherine with a questioning (and slightly sharp) look.

What were you doing here?

Katherine shrugs, the motion lazy and feline. I was in the neighbourhood and decided to come and say hello. Her eyes glint wickedly. I thought we could bond over the one more thing we now have in common.

(Maybe the slight emphasis on the word bond is all in Caroline s imagination. Maybe.)

Elena shrugs, a minute twitch of the shoulders. It doesn t matter why she was here, she says, simply. The point is that she was. She saw what... She saw how difficult things were for me, and she offered to help.

You could have called me, Caroline says softly, and to her own ears her voice sounds raw and vulnerable. She hates it, hates exposing herself like this in front of *her*. But the feelings cut too deeply to keep them inside. She has to let them out or they'll slice her to ribbons. I would have tried to help you.

I know. Now Elena's voice is pained. She meets and holds Caroline's eyes as if they're the only two people in the room. As if Katherine's presence wasn't filling the space between them. "I know you would. I was going to - even made it as far as pulling out my phone - but... But." She sighs. "You've helped me so much, Caroline. And you haven't given up on me. Not even when I... Even when I was awful to you."

"You weren't aw-"

"Yes. I was." Her expression this time is fond, but firm. (And, really, she's kind of right. Even if she is exaggerating a little.) "You keep telling me how much progress I'm making, and sometimes I even believe it. But on the Bad Days..." Her hands start to tighten on the arms of the chair, but she visibly checks the motion, folding them loosely in her lap. Her voice drops almost to a whisper, to the point where, if Caroline (was normal) wasn't a vampire, she would have had to strain to hear the next words. "I didn't want to you to see me like that, not again. I didn't want you to think that I was a lost cause."

"Oh, Elena..." Caroline's eyes prickle, but she blinks back the unshed tears. "I would *never* think that. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes." Elena's eyes are also shining a little, but she's back to a normal speaking volume. And if her voice quavers, just the tiniest amount, then Caroline isn't going to draw attention to it. "I do *know* that, but..." She chews on her lower lip a little, something she used to do when she was younger, but outgrew years ago. Until recently. "On the Bad Days, I don't *feel* it. And I just..." She shrugs, helplessly.

"It's alright," Caroline says, smiling gently. "You really *are* doing better than you were." Most of the time, even. (She only hurt Caroline that one time, and she didn't even mean to. But that was the worst it's ever been, and it's *never* gotten that bad since. Anyway, that wasn't even all that bad, not really. Not in the grand scheme of things.) "There may be bad days" - she refuses to weight the phrase like it's a Thing, like it's something more than a mere descriptor - "but you'll get through them. I'll help you. I will *never* give up on you. Okay?"

Elena's answering smile is like the sun breaking through storm clouds, like a warm fire after the bite of winter's chill. "Okay."

"Is it time for the group hug yet?" Katherine's sarcasm is almost a palpable force, hitting Caroline like a slap in the face.

Elena jumps a little, and Caroline has to stifle a twitch. She'd actually managed to - not forget that Katherine was there, exactly (like that was even possible) - tune out her presence as she focused on Elena. 'Stupid, Caroline,' she rebukes herself. 'So stupid.' You don't take your eyes off a snake in the room. No matter how distracted you get.

"There's no need to be snippy," Caroline says stiffly, crossing her legs at the ankles and smoothing down the skirt of her dress.

"Oh, *I'm* sorry," Katherine replies. "I didn't realise we were back to being children again. Are we going to start braiding each others' hair and gossiping about *boys*?" She slides a sly, sidelong glance at Caroline. "Or maybe girls."

Caroline blinks, biting back her first, instinctive retort as a realisation hits her. She's angry. Katherine is *angry*. It's the little things that give it away: slight tension in the graceful sweep of her neck, the way the glint in her eyes has hardened, her smile grown just that bit tighter. None of it obvious (unless you've become adept at watching others from all the time you've spent on the sidelines, at the edges), none of it telegraphed. But then, this is Katherine. If she was anyone else, she'd be *incandescent* right now.

Elena frowns. "Katherine," she says, reproachfully.

"Elena," replies Katherine, with the exact same intonation.

Perplexed irritation flutters across Elena's face. "What is your *problem*?"

Katherine's smile could cut glass. "My *problem*," she sing-songs, "is that you're supposed to be learning right now. *Not* having a heart to heart with your little cheerleader here. This is a lesson, not a slumber party."

'She really is pissed off,' thinks Caroline, wonderingly, almost too bewildered to be afraid. 'But where is it *coming* from?' Because if she knows anything about Katherine (and she knows a few things about Katherine), whatever she says aloud is unlikely to be the whole of it. (If what she says even has anything at all to do with the truth.)

"I didn't think they had slumber parties back in your day," she says lightly, covering her realisation with humour. This is *not* the time to play amateur psychiatrist with Katherine. Unleashing a literal 'monster of the id' was so not on the schedule for today.

After briefly levelling a hard, assessing look at Caroline (who does her best not to wilt under the weight of it), Katherine shrugs languidly. The flash of temper is gone as if it had never existed in the first place. (And maybe it hadn't. After all, it wouldn't be the first time that Caroline has misread someone. Or that Katherine has deceived.) "Maybe not, but I like to think that I move with the times." The smile she flashes now is all teeth. "And sometimes you have to blend in with your apparent peers."

"Here was I thinking you went your own way," Caroline can't help but sniff. "Don't you prefer playing the lone wolf? So to speak."

And then the world tilts as Caroline is twisted sideways and backwards, her back and shoulders hitting the cushions with an audible (tangible) thump. It all happens so suddenly, so unexpectedly, that there's no time for her to even *think* of trying to resist. Let alone to actually do so. And Katherine's face is inches from hers, a one hand resting lightly, so lightly, on the side of her face.

(For a brief, heartstopping moment, Caroline is sure that Katherine is actually going to kiss her.)

(But then that's never been her style.)

Katherine isn't physically holding her there, beneath her, but she doesn't have to. Caroline couldn't move if she tried. Her heart is pounding like a drum, her pulse almost deafening in her own ears (surely Katherine can hear it, is despising her for her weakness, for her fear, for the other thing that makes her breath catch in her throat) and she can't help thinking, crazily, dizzily, that the drink Elena served her not more than a few minutes ago must have been propelled halfway around her body by now.

"Oh, Caroline, Caroline," Katherine purrs, her breath tickling Caroline's lips, the scent of the blood on her face suddenly, teasingly (mouth-wateringly) strong. "You do say the *funniest* things."

"Katherine!" Elena's voice is closer than Caroline expected (not that she was expecting anything at all, not really), sharp and angry and *demanding*. "Leave Caroline alone."

"Oh, hush, Elena." She draws the name out like a caress, rolling it around on her tongue so that it emerges liquid and soft. "Caroline and I are having a conversation. I do fear I've been neglecting her *terribly*, but it will be good to reminisce about old times."

(And it's just apprehension that makes Caroline's stomach tighten at the way Katherine's voice slides into a lower register, the last words ripe with something that could be threat or promise. Or both at once.)

Katherine leans in even further, sliding her hand down from Caroline's cheek to her shoulder (sudden prickle of goosebumps, despite the stifling heat), now using her greater strength to press Caroline's body deeper into the sofa. (Using just enough strength to let Caroline know that she *could* break her, that she merely chooses not to.)

"I mean it, Katherine."

Caroline's thoughts are a skittering, stop-motion jumble, but a part of her is coherent enough to feel warmed by Elena's ready defense of her. Against Katherine. Even though Caroline is only-a-friend, and Katherine is... whatever Katherine is to Elena. Even after Katherine has given her a clear warning to back the hell off.

But that's Elena to a T. Threatening her only serves to make her more stubborn. And she always stands up for her friends.

(Apart from those times when she doesn't. And Caroline isn't really worried that she'll be abandoned. Except for the small part of her that always is.)

Elena isn't even *finished* yet. After a moment's silence, heavy and full, perhaps to give Katherine time to respond, she continues in a voice colder than Caroline has ever heard her use. She's never known that Elena - hearthfire, bonfire, occasional inferno - even holds that much ice within her.

"Let her go right now, or I will *make* you."

'Uh oh,' Caroline thinks. Because that's a challenge, that's a command, that's an *ultimatum*. You don't need to be psychic to know that this isn't going to end well.

Just like that, Caroline can breathe again. The paralysis fades from her limbs, leaving her free to move, free to act, free to defend herself from Katherine (from anyone). Free to defend *Elena* from Katherine. But her options are limited. She's pretty much certain she can't just push Katherine off her; she's just not strong enough. So what can she do?

Katherine tilts her head up slightly, her cheek brushing softly against Caroline's as she looks up and to the side a little, presumably to where Elena is standing. Caroline can only see part of the expression on Katherine's face, but it's enough to know that just because their lips are stretched and their teeth are showing, that doesn't mean someone is *smiling*.

When Katherine speaks, a second or two (a lifetime) later, her voice is steel under velvet, a knife in the dark. It's as smooth as molasses and poisonous all the way through. "So *make* me," she breathes. 


	2. When ourselves we do deceive

Caroline knows she has to act now, before things can fall apart any further. Before Elena can do whatever she's about to do, It's the only way to draw Katherine's attention (and her wrath) back onto herself. So she opens her mouth, extends her fangs and bites into Katherine's exposed neck.

Katherine *growls*.

The sounds arcs through Caroline like a bolt of electricity. Katherine's blood is in her mouth, Katherine's fingers gripping her flesh. A ragged growl escapes her own lips, and she knows that this action is going to have consequences (that she's going to have to pay for it, somehow, if not at this moment then at some time in the future when she least expects it), but right now she doesn't *care*. She draws back to strike again...

...and Katherine is suddenly not there any more.

Unaccountably bereft, Caroline hears the crash, but doesn't make sense of the sound, nor the subsequent meaty thumps and thuds. Not until she turns to see something that cannot possibly be real. Because, to her wide, staring, disbelieving eyes, it looks an awful lot like Elena is kicking the everloving *crap* out of Katherine.

And Katherine... is letting her.

No, that's not strictly true. She's blocking and evading and dodging like a spider monkey on speed. She just isn't hitting *back*. All she's doing is defending herself from Elena's furious onslaught. And as she does so, moving with a liquid grace that's almost breathtaking to see, she's actually *laughing*.

"Not bad, Elena," she chuckles, slapping away a punch to the face and side-stepping a kick. "I'm so glad you've been keeping up the training. You might be a vampire now, but that's no excuse for sloppy technique."

If anything, the humour only seems to incense Elena further. With a wordless cry of pure, unadulterated rage, she steps up the intensity of her attacks, laying into Katherine with such ferocity that she even lands a few solid blows. Caroline knows she has to stop this before it goes further. Before Katherine is pushed to doing something more than just defend herself. Before things escalate past the point of no return.

Springing to her feet, she moves towards the struggling pair, careful to stop just beyond striking range.

"Elena," she says, making the word as authoritative as she can. There's no response. "Elena. Stop." Still nothing. Okay, maybe a different approach. Higher pitched and wavering, with a knife-edge of panic. (Maybe even shrill, hysterical.) "Elena!"

Elena checks herself mid-punch, spinning around to face Caroline, a question in the tilt of her head. (But her lips are still twisted in a snarl, and tension spikes through Caroline as she realises that this can still go badly wrong.) Quick as a flash, Katherine takes advantage of Elena's distraction to blur away and put Caroline between the pair of them.

"Yes, that's enough, Elena," she echoes. "You've proved your point. Why don't we sit down and discuss things like grown-ups?"

Elena's hands are still clenched into fists, her face chalk-white, black-eyed with anger, her body a study in tension. She looks like she's only a hair's breadth away from going for Katherine again. Caroline has the feeling that if that happens, at least one of them won't be walking away from it.

"Are you going to leave Caroline alone now?" Elena grinds out between clenched teeth.

Caroline senses, more than sees, the shrug.

"I don't know. Maybe." And there's that laugh again, throaty and rich. "She's so much fun to play with."

Caroline resists the urge to roll her eyes (even while something twists inside her, a thrill of danger and, perhaps, something else), wondering just what the hell is going through Katherine's twisted little mind. Is she *trying* to provoke Elena? The evidence suggests the answer to that question is a resounding yes, but why is she doing this?

(Why does she do anything that she does?)

Elena is starting to relax her fighting posture, but that doesn't mean she's any less angry. Her temper is just hardening, turning as cold as ice.

"If you're not going to behave yourself, you can forget our deal. You can just *leave*. I don't. Like. Bullies."

Quick as a flash, Katherine comes back with: "Does Damon know that?"

Elena flinches, the barb striking deep. (Caroline is... conflicted.) But she recovers from the hit almost immediately, narrowing her eyes at Katherine.

"I won't let anyone hurt my friends." (Again, what about *him*? But this time the question goes unspoken.) "If you can't follow that simple rule, Katherine, then you can go. And don't bother coming back."

The silence following that statement is strangely fraught, oppressive with tension. Caroline half-turns so she can see Katherine properly, wanting to know what, if anything, is showing on her surface. Head tilted, eyes half-closed, a tiny, enigmatic smile hovering on her lips. Katherine's face is a perfect picture of sly, wry amusement. But in her eyes, there's a hint of something... Something that Caroline only recognises because she's watched Katherine talk about Klaus, back before everything got so... so... *murky*.

(Not that it was ever really clean.)

Against her expectation, against her will, against her reason, the sight of it touches her, deep inside. And so, impulsively, she does something that shocks herself: she defends Katherine.

"I'm okay, Elena," she says reassuringly. "She didn't hurt me. I think she just wanted to see what you'd do." She levels a flat, considering look at Katherine. "What both of us would do," she amends.

Katherine grins broadly at that. "In case you're interested, you both passed."

That actually gives Caroline a moment's pause. Is it true? Was this really all a test? She twists the thought this way and that, examining it from every angle, but then makes a conscious decision to let it go. This being Katherine, there's no way of knowing for sure. And, even if she's telling the truth, who's to say it was the *only* reason for what she did? When has she ever had only a single reason for doing anything?

Elena is looking more thoughtful now, and less irate, and Caroline can tell that she really wants to believe it. She doesn't want to think that Katherine was just being cruel. Thinking about it is obviously causing her some distress, so once again Caroline decides to cause a distraction.

Stepping deliberately close to Katherine (like invading a predator's personal space is no big deal at all), she leans in to mock-whisper: "You know, if you wanted to throw me down on the sofa and jump on me, you really should have bought me dinner first."

And, whatever happens after this, she can be secure in the knowledge that the split second of utter startlement on Katherine's face is *so* worth it.

As it turns out, judging from her delighted laughter, Katherine is highly amused. And even Elena smiles a little, which means the exercise is doubly worthwhile.

"Oh, Caroline," Katherine says, and there's something almost fond in her voice, even as she touches a hand to her neck and brings it away bloodied. "You really did grow a spine. I like that about you." She meets Caroline's eyes and gives her a small nod, and if Caroline is reading the situation right, she and Katherine now have a fragile truce. Or detente. Or something. Maybe? As she's trying to puzzle it out, Katherine turns to smile winningly at Elena.

"See, I do play well with others," she says, her tone bright and cheerful. "There's no need to get so worked up."

Elena is standing with her hands on her hips, her expression wavering between anger and amusement. It melts into concern as she looks Caroline over. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Caroline's answering smile is genuine, holding all the warmth she can't put into words right now. "Yes, of course I am. Don't worry about me." (She may still be trembling inside, a little, but that's okay. It's just the aftereffects of the adrenaline. Nothing at all to do with fear. Or with the tactile memory of Katherine's skin yielding under her teeth, the taste of her on her tongue.)

"So, what's the verdict? Do I get to stay with the cool kids?" Katherine makes with the mock puppy dog eyes, the comical expression drawing a roll of the eyes and a reluctant grin from Caroline.

Elena looks from one of them to the other, and then throws up her hands in frustration, stalking across the room to fling herself back into her chair. "Fine! Okay, you can stay. But no more needling Caroline. Okay?"

"Oh, you're no fun." Katherine pouts briefly, then smirks and picks up her glass again. By some miracle, it has not only ended up on the table, but is also the right way up, the contents still contained safely within it. Now, *that* takes real talent.

Perhaps wisely, Elena doesn't push Katherine for more than that not-exactly-a-promise, and the three of them settle into their respective positions. Katherine is draped over her half - well, two-thirds - of the sofa, her legs stretched out with her feet practically in Caroline's lap. It's another challenge, of course, but it's one that Caroline is ignoring for the moment. She's not playing that game right now. Caroline herself is sitting neatly with her back straight and her knees together. Elena is curled up in the chair again, one leg crossed beneath her and one leg on the floor, resting her elbow on one of the arms as she proceeds to slowly finish off her drink.

"It was starting to coagulate," she says defensively, as she sees Caroline looking at her.

Caroline shrugs. "I wasn't saying anything. It's your drink, you can drink it how you want." She takes a deep draught of her own. Elena's right: it is starting to coagulate. 'Oh well,' she thinks, philosophically. 'A drink is a drink.'

(Blood is blood, is what she means. But even now, even after she's made her peace with her new way of existence, she still finds it easier not to think about where her sustenance comes from.)

"What if she wants to just quaff it?" Katherine asks, like she's genuinely interested in Caroline's answer.

"I'm not going to do that!" Elena objects.

Caroline flashes her a quick grin, then turns back to Katherine, her expression rearranging itself into a thoughtful frown. "Well, she can if she *wants* to, of course. But it seems like an awful waste of a good drink, not to mention potentially ruining that cute little shirt. And it's not exactly good for the whole control thing."

"Why do you say that?"

Some things just have to be done, so Caroline paints a ditzy smile on her face and channels her inner valley girl. "Well, linen's pretty porous, so it'll soak up blood like a sponge. And you can't just throw it in a hot wash and hope for the best. The dye will come out."

Elena laughs at that, which makes her smile soften fondly. It's just so good to hear that sound again, to hear Elena laughing like she knows what it's like to be happy. It seems to happen far too little these days.

Katherine salutes Caroline with her glass. "Cute," she says, "but you know I meant the last part. Why do you think it isn't good for control?"

Caroline shrugs, not exactly sure what Katherine is after. "Well... it's giving into the thirst. Letting it control you."

"And what if you just want to? If it just makes you feel good to indulge your appetites?"

Caroline's lips seem to tighten of their own accord and she sets her glass down with an audible click. "Well. I would say that's worse."

"And why is that?"

"Because then you're *choosing* to be a monster." And maybe there's a challenge in the way she faces Katherine, the way she meets her gaze and holds it. But she will *not* let her best friend become a monster, no matter who she has to fight to stop that from happening. Even if she has to fight Elena herself. No matter what kind of understanding she and Katherine have, she can't, won't give way on this.

Katherine actually looks serious for once, leaning forward slightly as she seems to actually be thinking about Caroline's words. She looks intense, but not... not pissed off. Not angry. "That's one way of looking at it," she says slowly. "But what if it's not quite so simple as that?"

"Isn't it?" It seems to be, in Caroline's mind. With very few exceptions, whenever she's given into her instincts, bad things have happened. Control, for her, is about denial. About only letting her hunger out of its cage in very specific, very defined circumstances. It's not who she is, it's just something she has. Like someone else might have a temper, or a tendency towards thoughtless words. It has to be kept in check. Caroline Forbes is who she is; the vampirism is just a condition. Like lactose intolerance, or a gluten allergy, but with added superpowers.

"It's not a binary choice," Katherine explains, and she makes it sound so plausible. "It isn't either/or. Good or bad, human or monster. The instincts and drives are a part of you. You can't let them rule you, but that doesn't mean you should deny them either." Her voice grows passionate, somehow the emotion accentuating the logic of her argument rather than detracting from it. "Would you voluntarily blindfold yourself? Wear ear plugs? Would you stop up your nose and smother your sense of touch in cotton wool? Of course you wouldn't. This is no different."

"It is different, though," Caroline protests.

"Only if you let it be different," comes the swift response. "But you can choose otherwise. All you have to do is let go of your hang-ups and learn to *feel*. The last word emerges low and silken, seeming almost to flow through the air and into her ears.

"Is *that* what the kissing was about?" Caroline asks, weighting the questions with as much skepticism as she can pack into those few words.

Elena is the one who answers her. "Basically, yes." She shrugs a little awkwardly, looking embarrassed. "I just... It's all mixed up right now. The hunger, my emotions... Everything. And I'm just so *sensitive*." Caroline's eyebrows rocket skywards, and Elena immediately cringes in outright mortification. "Oh, my god. I didn't mean like *that*, not specifically. I mean, you know, just generally."

"Oh," is all Caroline can say to that. She doesn't need to look at Katherine to know that there's an infuriating smirk on her lips. "But if you're already so overwhelmed, doesn't it make it worse to be stimulated even more?"

Now it's Caroline's turn to cringe as she realises what that sounds like, and she wishes the floor would open up and swallow her. Elena looks like she doesn't know whether to collapse into giggles or to cringe right along with her.

Katherine, of course, laughs like it's the most hilarious thing in the world.

Elena coughs a little, rearranging her expression into a vague semblance of seriousness. "Actually, it's kind of the opposite."

"How can you tame a beast if you keep it sleeping all the time?" Katherine interjects. "The first step towards control is understanding. Elena is learning how to listen to what her body is telling her." Her eyes sparkle wickedly. "And she is a *very* good student."

That last comment earns Katherine a sharp look from Elena, who seems distinctly flushed for some reason. Caroline isn't touching the remark with a ten foot pole. Nu-uh, no way. There is one thing she wants to know, though. "Why kissing?" she wonders.

(And, if she also wonders what more they might have been doing on all those occasions when it was just the two of them, then she keeps those wonderings locked tightly within herself.)

Katherine quirks an eyebrow. "Would you rather I hurt her? Scared her? For this to work, it *needs* to be something strong and primal. Love, hate, sex, violence... All the fun stuff."

That... does make a kind of sense, Caroline supposes. (Unbidden, memories float up from the dark places in her mind. Her own transition. Hunger and desire interwining until she couldn't tell any more which one was which. Thirst and fury as two sides of a coin, where at any point the coin could flip from one face to the other.)

But still... She focuses her attention solely on Elena, meeting and holding her gaze. "Why *her*?" she asks, unable to keep the bafflement from her voice. "After everything that's happened, everything she's done... You're trusting her like this?"

"Caroline, I'm hurt," Katherine murmurs, sounding like nothing of the sort.

Elena sighs. "She offered to help," she says, like it really is that simple. "And I needed... need..." She breaks off, takes a deep breath, and tries again. "You've helped me so much Caroline. You're the reason I'm still even vaguely sane right now. But I can't do what you do. I can't just... keep it all from touching me, from getting to me. I'm just not strong like that."

The look in her eyes is almost pleading, willing Caroline to get it, to not feel like she's being rejected. To not be hurt. (But she is, a little. Is that really what Elena thinks? That it doesn't touch her? Or just that Caroline is untouchable?) Caroline's heart melts a little to see Elena so raw and open. Impulsively, she crosses the room to enfold her in a hug.

"I understand," she says, and Elena sags in relief.

"Thanks Caroline," she says softly, returning the hug. "You're the best."

Caroline closes her eyes for a moment, basking in the certainty of Elena's friendship and regard, but then a nagging thought drives her to speak.

"You know, you *could* have told me," she says taking a step back so she can see Elena's face. There's a hint of reproach in her words, but she doesn't feel that it's unjustified.

"I didn't know how," Elena replies, ruefully. "As you said: after everything that's happened..." She gestures expressively, as if trying to encompass the tangled mess of complications that is the sum of their interactions with Katherine up until now. Her expression brightens. "But I'm glad you know now. Keeping it from you was killing me."

She should just smile and move on, Caroline thinks. She should. Now that everything is out in the open, the air clear between Elena and herself, there's no point in prodding at this sore spot any further. But she just can't help herself. "I still don't understand why you can't just do this with Stefan. Or..." She trails off there, not able to finish the sentence.

(And if that isn't quite the question she wants to ask, if it only dances around the edges of it. Well, that's probably for the best.)

Elena winces like a barb has struck home, even though that isn't what she intended. (Not really.) "It's complicated. Asking one of them... No." She shakes her head firmly, her jaw set and tight. "That would not be a good idea." And, again, that pleading look flutters in her eyes. "You understand, don't you?"

Katherine snorts, the sound managing to convey whole worlds of disgust. (And saving Caroline from having to figure out how to respond to that whatever-it-is.) "Like either of *them* could teach you the things I can," she sniffs. "Stefan can afford his morals and his falls from grace. Damon can afford his pride and his petty cruelties." There's an oddly wistful note is her voice as she's saying these things, the words surprisingly free of hooks and edges. "Despite what you may have heard, I haven't had the *luxury* of any of that. From even before I turned, my life has been about survival. *That* is what I can teach you." She points one immaculately manicured fingernail in Elena's direction. "And you are going to need it. Don't think you're any safer as a vampire than you were as a doppelganger. Even with Klaus gone."

She's breathing hard, Caroline is surprised to realise. Her face is flushed, and somewhere along the way her expression has turned into one of steely determination. This is something that *matters* to Katherine. (Or, at least, she's doing a very good impression of giving a damn.)

But in the blink of an eye, the intensity is gone, leaving a heavy-lidded amusement in its place as Katherine settles back against the cushions and drains the remainder of her drink.

"And even if those boys were capable, all those messy *feelings* of theirs would just get in the way. No, it's far more... practical with just us girls." And the smile she turns on Caroline is sly and knowing, irritating as all hell. "I'm sure you can understand *that*."

This time it's Elena who saves Caroline from having to think of a reply. "It's just so much... simpler... with Katherine," she says softly.

Caroline nearly chokes on Elena's words, unable to keep back a snort of her own. Since when was *anything* about Katherine ever simple? She can't possibly let this go unchallenged, but Katherine gets there even as she's drawing breath for some sort of retort.

The look on her face one of pure, unashamed, *gleeful* malice, Katherine stares Caroline directly in the eyes and purrs: "Would you rather Elena practice her control with you?"

'She did not just...' But she *did*; Katherine said the un-say-able, and now Elena is *looking* at her and Caroline can't breathe and her mind just stutters endlessly as she tries to figure out how to *fix* this.

When no response is forthcoming from Caroline, Elena blinks and turns to Katherine. "What?" she asks, her voice low and hoarse.

And Caroline realises all over again why you should never make the mistake of thinking you've found Katherine's limits, of hoping that she won't twist the knife that much further just because she *can*.

"Oh, Caroline has *such* a crush on you, Elena. Didn't you know?"

The bottom drops out of Caroline's world. Somewhere inside, part of her is wailing, mourning what she's sure is going to be the death of a friendship that means so very, very much to her. With a few careless-sounding words (but not truly careless, because she never does anything carelessly, not really) Katherine has shattered everything Caroline was trying to keep whole with her silence.

When, after what feels like a lifetime, she does manage to wrest a coherent thought from the maelstrom in her head, it's a miserable, bitter-edged observation that Katherine has certainly managed to get her back for that bite. She just wasn't expecting something quite like this.

Elena looks from Katherine to Caroline and then back to Katherine again. "What?" she says again.

Katherine shrugs. "Maybe the two of you should talk. Since we're all about openness and honesty today. I'll go and get us a top up so you can have some privacy."

She stands and sashays out of the room, presumably heading for the other fridge, Elena's not-so-secret stash of blood. Elena wordlessly watches her go, then turns back to face Caroline, studying her like she's never seen her before.

"Is it true?" she asks, softly, and Caroline can't deny it. (Can't dissemble, can't *lie*.) Not when she's pinned like this, paralysed by Elena's soft, dark eyes. Unable to speak the word aloud, she simply nods slowly. A soft sigh escapes Elena's lips. "How long?" she asks, and there's something like almost looks like compassion in her eyes.

A ragged laugh bubbles up in Caroline's throat, catching her by surprise. "I don't... I don't really know," she says. "I only recently became aware of it. But it's okay," she hastens to add. "It doesn't have to change anything between us." (But of course it will change things. It's going to change everything. How can it not?)

"Oh, Caroline..."

Caroline tries desperately to think of something to say to make this whole situation a little less soul-crushingly awkward, but Elena completely derails her train of thought by getting up and hugging her. And there's nothing self-conscious about the way she pulls Caroline in close to her, no awkward holding at arm's length. The embrace is just warmth, and comfort, and all the friendship that Caroline was so sure she'd just lost forever.

"It's okay," Elena continues, her voice a soothing murmur, like Caroline is some skittish creature who needs to be calmed down. "I'm not worried about *that*. I'm worried about *you*." She pulls back a little so she can meet Caroline's gaze. "It can't have been easy, keeping this to yourself."

And, just like that, everything is alright again.

"It wasn't so bad," Caroline says, the relief of it all making her almost giddy.

"You could have told me," you know, Elena says, an unconscious echo of Caroline's earlier words.

Caroline shrugs in Elena's arms, bringing her own arms up to return the hug. "I didn't want to make things awkward between us."

"I guess I can understand that." Elena starts to lean into the embrace, but then stops, as if suddenly unsure of herself. Caroline immediately lets go of her, but Elena is tightening her grip. They both freeze, then Elena half-laughs and they disentangle themselves.

Caroline tries to cover the awkward moment (the one Elena just said wouldn't happen) with a slightly rueful smile and a soft: "Oops."

Elena returns the smile. She starts to say something and then stops, a sudden frown crossing her face. "So, how does *Katherine* know?" she asks, as if the question only just occurs to her, swiftly adding: "If you don't mind me asking."

Caroline does mind, but there's no way she's going to actually say that. She keeps the sudden flare of unease locked tightly within her skin, feeling like she's on dangerous ground once more (like it wasn't treacherous enough already). She gives an exaggerated shrug, smiling lopsidedly at Elena. "She's *Katherine*," she says, as if that's explanation enough. "She has ways of finding things out."

"Do I have to beat her up again?" Elena's tone is light and joky, but there's a spark of something serious in her eyes, a protectiveness that Caroline finds as comforting as that first, instinctive hug. (Before the onset of the still-present tension.)

"No, that's okay," she smiles back.

"Spoilsport." Katherine's voice - darkly, almost sinfully amused - makes both Caroline and Elena jump a little. They turn to see her standing in the doorway, leaning casually against the doorframe. When she sees them both looking at her, the twisted smile on her lips widens a little, showing the points of her teeth. "I take it you two have kissed and made up." It isn't really a question.

"Katherine!" Elena protests. Caroline contents herself with a wordless glower. (Bizarrely, Caroline finds herself feeling almost grateful for Katherine's arrival. Her presence rearranges the board into a more familiar, more comfortable configuration. Caroline and Elena standing together, united against an outside force. Just like old times.)

As if she can read Caroline's thoughts, Katherine raises a glass of rich, dark red liquid in her direction. It almost feels like a salute.

"I think this deserves a toast," she pronounces. Crossing the room, she hands the opened bag to Elena. "I'll let you pour the other two."

Elena hesitates only a moment, then takes the bag, her jaw set in a stubborn line. "Fine," she says, with the air of someone accepting a challenge. Ignoring their used glasses, she retrieves a couple of fresh ones from the cupboard. There isn't even a hint of black in her gaze as she pours two generous measures of liquid, her movements smooth and controlled.

"There you go." Handing one to Caroline, she sets the bag on the counter, propping it up carefully so that it doesn't tip and spill. "To friendship," she says, raising her glass and taking a sip.

"Friendship," Caroline echoes, genuine happiness bubbling up inside her (with only a slight pang of disappointment underneath).

"To friendship," Katherine drawls. And it's impossible to tell whether or not she's mocking them.

Elena eyes her sharply nonetheless. "I want a word with you."

Katherine inclines her head regally. "I'm listening."

Elena strides towards her, only stopping when she's practically standing on her toes. "I asked you not to pick on Caroline," she says, her voice low and intense. "I told you what would happen if you didn't stop."

"And I haven't leaped on her once since you gave your little ultimatum," Katherine points out, her tone matter of fact. "I haven't even *touched* her." Her eyes meet Caroline's, briefly, sending a shiver down her spine at what lies in their depths.

"Her secrets aren't yours to tell," Elena says tightly.

"Are you saying you'd rather not know?" Katherine asks, her tone surprisingly mild.

"Well, no..." Elena looks a little trapped, the words emerging reluctantly. "But that isn't the point," she continues, her voice regaining some of its strength.

"Caroline wasn't going to tell you anytime soon."

"And that would have been *her* decision!"

Katherine shrugs, and turns to look at Caroline over Elena's shoulder. "In which case, I'd like to make my apologies to you, Caroline. Privately. Elena, can you give us a moment?"

Elena also looks back towards Caroline, her lower lip caught between her teeth, a conflicted expression on her face. "Um. Caroline?"

Caroline blinks, torn. She studies Katherine's face, trying to see past the oh-so-smooth facade to figure out what's going through her mind. She doesn't *look* like she's contemplating violence. And, well, if she harms Caroline now, that's the surest way of alienating Elena, something Caroline is pretty sure she doesn't want to do.

Besides, Caroline is deeply, deeply curious. (And if they do it here, who knows what Katherine might say in front of Elena.)

"Okay," she says, her mind made up. And on the heels of the decision comes another thought. Katherine has been playing her all afternoon, using - she finally acknowledges to herself, after so long spent in denial - the tension that's simmered between them since the very first. Well, a taut cord stretches both ways, and Caroline is *tired* of being on the back foot.

Stepping around Elena, she takes Katherine by the hand. Her nails scrape lightly against the soft skin of Katherine's palm, just so, and this time Katherine is the one who shivers. And even if it's just an act, the fact that she respects Caroline enough to respond means that something has changed between them. Caroline *smiles*. "Shall we take a walk?" she says, her voice a little husky around the edges.

Katherine nods slowly. "Please excuse us, Elena," she says, but her eyes are fixed on Caroline's as she slowly slides her hand free. As Katherine's skin brushes against hers, Caroline could almost swear there were sparks. Even when Caroline turns to head for the door, she can feel Katherine's steady, burning gaze as an itch between her shoulder blades. Part of her quivers at the way she's playing with fire. But this is the first time she feels she can pass through the flames without being burned to ash. Whatever the stakes of this game turn out to be, she is *not* going to gamble with her self-respect.

The setting sun is bright after the gloom inside the house, and Caroline raises a hand to shield her eyes as she steps out into the garden. Quickly darting into the shade of a tall tree, she turns around to find that Katherine is standing right behind her. In front of her, now. Katherine's eyes a-glimmer with mischief and, perhaps, other, darker things, she slowly starts to smile.

Before she can speak, Caroline swiftly cuts in with: "I believe you said something about an apology..."

For a moment, there's something that almost looks like pride on Katherine's face. "I say a lot of things," she murmurs, her voice ripe with promise. "Why don't you let me show you?"

She leans forward, slowly bringing her lips towards Caroline's. But she stops just before they touch, a startlingly soft question in her eyes. Caroline's pulse is like thunder in her ears as she takes a deep breath and lets her defences down, allowing herself to *feel*. And, somehow, closing the distance between them seems like the most natural thing in the world.

Their kiss is gentle at first, a featherlight brush of their lips against each other. Until one of them - Caroline honestly doesn't know which one - gives a soft, breathy moan. And then Caroline is *burning*.

Lips part, mouths soft and wet and *wanting* as they explore each other; taste each other. Here, a tongue's expert teasing. There, the gentlest nip of teeth. The air around them seems to crackle with heat until it seems a wonder that the whole world doesn't burn down around them.

Maybe it will. Right here, right now, Caroline's only regret would be that it would mean *this* would have to come to an end.

Caroline's hands move of their own accord, one tangling in Katherine's soft, dark hair; the other gripping her waist. Katherine's hands are moving on her back, fingers tracing endless patterns as they find the exposed skin of her shoulders and neck, nails digging in hard enough to draw a gasp. She kisses Katherine hungrily, greedily, like she's starving and Katherine is a bounteous feast. Katherine meets and matches her every turn, demanding when Caroline submits, yielding where she is forceful.

Even if Katherine's yielding often seems to be just another way for her to end up exactly where she wants to be.

Caroline's fingers flex, velvet bunching between them, the material twisting and sliding until she brushes against the skin beneath. Wanting, *needing* to touch, she reaches...

...only to find empty air beneath her hand as Katherine is no longer there.

The sound that escapes her lips is part growl, part moan. She whips her head up and around, eyes searching, finding Katherine standing a few steps away, watching her.

"So, am I forgiven?" Katherine asks, her voice perhaps a little breathless, her hand perhaps trembling a little as she smoothes her dress down over her thighs.

Caroline blinks, holding herself where she is only by sheer force of will. It would be so easy to... But no. "I'm not sure yet," she says, pleased out of all proportion when her voice comes out steady and even. "Maybe."

"I'm going to take that as a yes," Katherine smirks.

"You can do what you want," Caroline retorts. "You usually do." But, against all common sense, she finds herself smiling back at Katherine and, despite the way her lips still tingle, despite the way her pulse is still rapid and urgent beneath her skin, she feels what's almost a kind of peace start to pool within her chest.

Her heart thumps as Katherine steps purposefully towards her again, but all she does is brush a few strands of hair out of Caroline's eyes. "Did you see the way Elena looked at you when you took my hand?" she says, a wicked amusement in her words.

"Umm, no?" Caroline wasn't really intending it to come out as a question. Honestly, at that point, all her attention was focused squarely on Katherine.

Katherine's expression softens into something that actually looks like a real smile. "I think you may find that, once she's had some time to think about it a little, she might not be as opposed to... exploring certain possibilities with you as you seem to think."

"Oh," Caroline says, faintly. Because, really: what *can* she say to that?

But Katherine doesn't seem to be expecting her to say much of anything, because she's already continuing. "Of course," she purrs, "Elena might find she has a little competition..." And she kisses her fingertips, brushing them gently against Caroline's mute lips. "Tell Elena goodbye for me," she says.

"O- Okay," Caroline manages. She clears her throat, trying to pull herself together despite the fact it seems like everything she thought she knew is shattering into a thousand pieces. "I will," she says, a little more strongly.

Katherine inclines her head, looking for all the world like one noblewoman taking her leave of another. "Be seeing you," she whispers.

And then she really is gone.

Caroline stands there for a moment or two, just in case she comes back, but the only sound she hears is the gentle sighing of the breeze. She gives a sigh of her own, resisting the urge to cover her face with her hands.

"My life," she says aloud, "has just gotten even *more* complicated."

But when she steps out from the shadow of the tree, tilting her face up to meet the brilliant sunshine, she finds herself smiling.  



End file.
